


The Great Jersey Escape

by Black_Rose_Authoress



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Christmas Fluff, M/M, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 11:13:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13145499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black_Rose_Authoress/pseuds/Black_Rose_Authoress
Summary: Long distance relationships suck; getting stuck at the airport while trying to reunite with your long distance boyfriend sucks even harder.





	The Great Jersey Escape

**Author's Note:**

> So, this fic was written as part of the USUK Christmas Countdown 2017. The challenge was to work with an artist to create a fanfic and accompanying fanart that followed a particular prompt. I worked with Katie, who you can find at katiehime-draws.tumblr.com. Our prompt was 'Reunion'.
> 
> You can view Katie's lovely artwork here: http://usuknetwork.tumblr.com/post/168908736207/usuk-christmas-countdown-2017-december-24
> 
> Also, for anyone who's curious... This was totally based on a real 'airport hell' experience I had. Except mine actually got even crazier. ;)

In Arthur's mind, there was only _one_ good thing about airports: how easy they made it to find alcohol. Sure, it may take what feels like a bloody _hour_ to find a restroom that isn't closed for cleaning or just blocked off for unknown and unexplained reasons, but if you're someone who needs to sit down and pay for a glass of horrifically overpriced whiskey? Well, you can find somewhere to do _that_ in half a millisecond.

It was because they knew no one could get through this fucking experience sober. It was like Stockholm Syndrome. They destroyed your will to live with their long lines and constant delays and poking and prodding TSAs and then-like an oasis-granted you salvation in the form of intoxication.

"Just give us your money and all your problems will disappear," the quiet voice of exhaustion and airport-fueled misery proceeds to whisper in your ear.

And Arthur Kirkland, at the least, was more than willing to accept.

He blamed this entire disaster on Alfred, by the way. Or wanted to, at least. After all, it was _his_ idea for Arthur to come visit him during the holidays, despite knowing that flying this time of year was its own special brand of torture.

"Come on, Artie, imagine how great it'll be to spend Christmas together! This is the first year we've both got time off and since we haven't been able to see each other in months anyway..." They'd been speaking over Skype and, right after he said that, there was a split second of silence that _could_ be blamed on lag-and Alfred would prefer if he did blame it on something technological-but Arthur knew wasn't. Mostly because he was feeling his own, companion twinge of sadness.

He hadn't wanted this separation to last so long. The original plan was for Arthur to move to the States to be with his boyfriend almost two years ago, but then he received an offer for what was basically the job of his dreams and Alfred wouldn't even let him _consider_ saying no. "Absolutely not! We'll figure something out! If I can find something over there, then maybe we'll just do it the other way around!"

But, then, his mom got sick and Alfred couldn't leave her. Arthur wouldn't have let him anymore than Alfred would let him give up his job.

So, this long-distance relationship had lasted for much, much longer than either intended. And because of that, the idea of spending Christmas together after so many months apart was so appealing that Arthur figured he could just deal with the miseries of air travel.

But, oh how he'd underestimated them.

Arthur glared at the drink resting at his elbow, then lifted it to his lips and polished it off with a single gulp. Everything hurt right now. His eyes felt like they were filled with sand, his ass was numb, everything was woozy and disorienting, although that could probably be blamed on the booze.

The initial plan was that he'd arrive at Newark airport at 12:45pm. It would be his last layover, just a little over two hours. He'd then take a short, hour and a half flight to a little airport in upstate New York where Alfred would pick him up, and then they'd drive the last hour and a bit to his place.

He'd expected some changes to the plan, because when did a plane _ever_ leave exactly on time, but he'd hoped to avoid _this_.

Arthur groaned and turned to poke at the screen beside him. These were also nice airport things, he supposed, the little screens at the bars and restaurants that let you order your drinks without having to actually interact with another human being. They also made it _way_ too easy to spend all your money, but at this point he was too exhausted to care.

His cell phone, which he'd set on the bar beside him, briefly lit up. Arthur eyed it for a moment, then reached over and scooted it over with a single finger. He looked down at the screen and just barely resisted the urge to chuck the goddamn thing in some random direction.

Another delay, of-bloody-course. Of-bloody-fucking-bloody-course.

This was the last time Arthur was ever willingly stepping on a fucking plane. Next time he had to travel from England to the States, he'd rent a fucking _canoe_.

It was 10:38pm. He'd been in this airport for nine hours-or something like that, he was too drunk and exhausted to care about math.

That 12:45pm flight had arrived in Newark pretty much right on time. And it'd actually been a tolerable flight. He'd flown steerage, since Alfred insisted he pay for the tickets and that was all he could afford, but he'd ended up being moved to a seat with more leg room. The girl sitting beside him had been the perfect seat companion too. She just smiled at him when she sat down and then spent the rest of the flight reading and listening to music through her headphones. There weren't any screaming babies or passengers kicking his seat. He hadn't managed to sleep, which he considered slightly unfortunate at the time, but otherwise it was fine.

But then they arrived in fucking Newark and as soon as he turned his phone off airplane mode, there it was, 'Welcome to Newark. Your next flight is cancelled. Fuck you.'

At least, that's what it might as well have said. The girl in the seat beside him apparently received a similar text, since he heard her swear under her breath and then she began typing frantically, presumably alerting whoever was supposed to pick her up of the issue. Something Arthur had known he'd have to do too.

Although, he figured he'd deal with it _after_ enduring the goddamn wait at customer service. Which also ended up as a fuck you, because the obviously-dead-inside representative said there was only one flight to that airport leaving today and it was totally booked. "We can put you on standby. If somebody else doesn't show up, you might be able to take that flight."

He'd agreed, because what else could he do? But, of course, that flight wasn't scheduled to leave until 10:25pm, which meant he had the joyous experience of spending hours stuck in bloody Newark Airport. He'd spent the hours switching between wandering around aimlessly and sitting around in various locations, waiting impatiently for the hour of truth to arrive.

The goddamn thing ended up being announced as delayed-the first time-at 10:16pm, which was when Arthur decided to just go find some booze and soak his miseries. Because he seriously _seriously_ doubted he was getting out of here tonight.

When the bartender brought his fresh drink, he wisely chose to avoid small talk. His eyes may have held a slight bit of sympathy, but Arthur knew this man saw such suffering every day that it would be dangerous to feel too much for the stranded traveler.

He sighed, reached for the drink, but then paused when he saw the screen of his phone light up again. He glared at it; if this was another delay or, as now seemed more likely, a cancellation, he really _was_ going to launch the goddamn thing into orbit.

Except then he realized that the screen was still alight and there was a green button and a red button... An actual call. He turned his head to read the name, which took a couple seconds longer than it probably should've. It was Alfred.

He answered, although the "Hello" that came out of his mouth was one that had no time or patience for bullshit.

Alfred, of course, responded with a laugh. "Hey, Artie! I take it you're still stuck in Ol' Joisey, then."

Arthur really hated the way he said that. Such a stupid joke and one that he didn't even _get_.

"Although not really 'Ol' Joisey' because if you were there, you'd still be back in England!"

"No, Jersey isn't actually part of Engl-"

Alfred interrupted him. "So, what's goin' on with the plane? Is it still delayed or did you not get off the waitlist?"

"It's delayed." Arthur scowled at the distant screen that showed the status of their plane, as well as the list of passengers on standby. The very _long_ list of passengers on standby. "Honestly, I doubt I'm going anywhere tonight. There are two other flights here going to the same general area and they've both been delayed too. One was supposed to leave at 3:34pm and the attendant _just_ announced that the plane is on the way."

Alfred whistled. "Jeez. Wonder what the issue is? There hasn't been any snow up here in days."

Arthur felt slightly disappointed by that. He'd rather been hoping for a white Christmas.

But then he was startled by the sound of a very very enraged-sounding honk and equally enraged, "Fuck you! That was your own fault, asshole!" coming from the other end of the line.

"Dude, Mattie, chill," Alfred was very obviously not talking to him anymore.

"Are you driving?" he asked.

Alfred returned to the conversation. "Course not! Mattie's the one driving! It's illegal to talk on your phone while driving!" There was a moment of silence. Arthur was about to ask something, but then he was interrupted by Alfred's voice sounding like he'd moved away from the speaker again. "Wait, is that still a thing here?"

"I assume so? It's not safe either way... ARE YOU SERIOUSLY NOT LETTING ME IN, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!?"

"Dude, douche move!" Alfred was yelling at someone too and Arthur was honestly just confused right now. Maybe it was the booze. He probably should stop for the night.

"Alfred, where _are_ you?"

"Where else?" And his voice had such an obnoxious, overly-cheerful pep to it. "Can't you hear Mattie yelling at the obnoxious drivers? We're in Jersey, baby! The one _not_ in England."

"I was just telling you that Jersey isn't in England. It's part of the British Isles." This was completely irrelevant to their conversation, but there was a part of his brain that always needed to correct Alfred when he made stupid comments like that. Now, on to the more important part. "Why are you in New Jersey?"

He heard someone snort, which he imagined came from Alfred's brother, rather than Alfred himself. Further evidenced when Alfred proclaimed, "We're coming to rescue you from Joisey, dude!"

"What?"

"Ya told me earlier that you're like number 8 on that standby list and I told Mattie there's no _way_ there's gonna be _that_ many people missing the flight for whatever reason. So, I was like, 'dude, we should just go pick him up! It's not _that_ far of a drive!'"

"About five and a half hours," Matthew's voice supplied.

"Yeah, exactly! That's not bad at all! So, we're actually only like..." a slight pause. "GPS says eighteen minutes from the airport, so you should totally get out of the terminal and go to wherever the heck they have people greet passengers so we can pick you up!"

A repeated mental 'what?'

"You actually drove five and a half hours to pick me up from the airport? Just in case I wasn't able to get on my flight?"

"Yep!" Alfred continued to sound overly-cheerful. "I'm actually pretty happy you're still there, cuz if you weren't Mattie would've been _pissed_."

"Not entirely. I'd just force you to pay for both our tickets tomorrow."

"Oh!" Alfred's exclamation was so loud that Arthur actually had to pull the phone away from his ear. He also managed to startle a lady who was just about to sit in one of the seats near him. She sent him a slightly suspicious glance and decided to choose a seat farther away. "Almost forgot! Mattie doesn't wanna drive all the way back tonight, so we're going to the City tomorrow! And we're gonna go see _Aladdin_ on Broadway! And see the Rockefeller Christmas tree and we could go ice skating like in that movie!"

Mattie snorted again. "I seriously doubt Arthur would want to do that. I've been to New York City around Christmas time before and there's no way skating in the rink is worth standing in that line."

"Either way!" Alfred was still shouting; Arthur was still keeping the phone away from his ear. "Be ready for us! Mattie's gonna wait with the car and I'll come in and get you and I'll have a sign, so there's no way we'll miss each other!"

Arthur was smiling, although he tried not to. This was just too stupid for words. "All right, but I don't think we'll be able to get any money back for my ticket." And he had no idea how he was going to get his luggage. Thankfully, he'd been smart enough to pack a couple days worth of clothing in his carry-on.

"Doesn't matter! I just didn't want to have to wait a whole 'nother day to see you!" There was a moment of quietness after that, only broken by a loud honk from behind and another curse from Mattie. "Um..." And he actually sounded slightly embarrassed, which was rather uncommon to hear in Alfred's voice. "Okay, I should probably let you go, then, so you can get out of there! I'll see you soon!"

Arthur nodded, although Alfred obviously couldn't see and pulled the phone away from his ear. Alfred had already hung up.

The bartender sent him a look that held at least a shot of amusement. "Well, will that be it for you, then?"

"Yeah," Arthur turned his attention to the touchpad and hurriedly paid for his drinks while purposely avoiding looking at the total. He grabbed his carry-on and slid his phone into his pocket. Then, with nothing else really to say or do, he sent the bartender a grateful nod, turned, and began walking toward where he remembered seeing a sign for the exit.

It took a while to figure out where he was going-these places were always rather maze-like-but eventually he found the passenger pick-up area. There weren't many people there, just a few families and individuals who were obviously waiting for arrivals and some others who looked like they were waiting for someone to take them away from this hellish place.

There definitely weren't enough people present that anyone would need a _sign_ to catch their newly-arrived boyfriend's attention.

Particularly not a massive, neon-yellow sign that had 'WELCOME ARTIE! SORRY YOUR FLIGHT SUCKED!' written on it in big, blue, bubble letters and which was absolutely _covered_ with hearts, drawn with what looked like glitter glue. Oh, and there were stickers. Tons of random, completely unrelated stickers.

"Artie! Over here, Artie!" And you definitely didn't need that type of sign if you were going to just scream your boyfriend's name anyway. Alfred was standing near a set of doors, waving the sign overhead and grinning like a little kid on Christmas morning.

Arthur knew he was bright red now. Most of the other people waiting in the room had turned to look at them. He heard a girl go "aww," which was basically mortifying.

He wrestled his carry-on toward Alfred and hurriedly pushed the sign down to his side. "You don't need to be so loud, git. There's only half a dozen people in here!"

Alfred just continued to grin and draped an arm over his shoulder. "I know! But I wanted to make sure you saw me right away and didn't go wander off and get lost! You don't wanna spend any more time in 'Joisey' than you have to, right?"

Arthur rolled his eyes.

"So, then..." And that was all the warning Arthur received before Alfred dropped the sign, which slid a few feet away with a little 'swoosh' noise, and then threw his arms around him in a massive hug. "It's so good to see you, Artie! I missed you so much!"

He was too startled to immediately respond, but Arthur slowly wrapped his arms around his boyfriend in a return embrace. "I-I missed you, too." It'd been way too long... He'd almost forgotten what it felt like to feel his boyfriend's arms around him like this.

Alfred just kept squeezing him, almost to the point of lifting him off his feet, and then released just long enough to lean down and give him a quick peck on the lips. More 'public' than Arthur generally allowed, but Alfred probably knew that he'd let him get away with it when it'd been so long.

"We should get going, then! Mattie's waiting outside and we've got a hotel room booked already and we've got a busy day ahead of us tomorrow!" He bent over to grab the sign, grabbed Arthur's carry-on without asking, and then bounded toward the exit.

All Arthur could really do was follow, as they made their escape from Newark airport.


End file.
